


gfy: parallelism in five verses

by thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, F/F, F/M, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, parallel reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-18 16:42:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12392016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: There are perks to having a female alter ego.





	gfy: parallelism in five verses

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Parallel World](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/330456) by kira_shadow. 



> reposted from agck.

> ### 1.

Hiroko doesn’t bother waiting for the door to close before she hops up into Kitayama’s arms, making him stumble backwards towards the wall. Kitayama can barely hold her up, despite how small she is, even though he’s convinced that the majority of her weight is in her breasts. He supposes it makes sense that both he and his female alter ego are well-endowed in their respective ways, which Hiroko quickly learns as she reaches down into his pants.

As strange as it is to make out with himself, technically, it’s also quite enjoyable. Hiroko has the exact same technique as Kitayama, and—as Kitayama finds out once his hands start to roam—the same sensitive spots. He knows that she’s going to shiver from a brief swipe of his fingertips up her side, which has her nipping his bottom lip in a way he never knew he liked until right now.

The best part, Kitayama thinks, is their identical levels of shamelessness as Hiroko whips out a condom from her bra and rolls it onto him. Kitayama rushes to slip his fingers into her panties for some semblance of foreplay, groaning when he finds her wet and tight, but he’s barely inside her when she yanks out his wrist and lowers herself onto his cock.

“ _Fuck_ yes,” she hisses, and Kitayama groans as her heat surrounds him. “Don’t just stand there, Mitsu.”

His hands grip her hips and he starts to thrust his hips forward, sending her bouncing up and down on him. Gravity is a wonderful thing, Kitayama realizes as he hits her deep and leans back against the wall to balance them. Hiroko’s arms are locked around his neck, her body arched as she moves, and Kitayama only has to dip his head a little bit to press his face into her cleavage.

Her shirt is low-cut enough for him to tongue her nipple, which has her tightening around him and moaning as her fingers twist in his hair. He rocks up into her a few more times before he feels her come, glancing up toward her face because he’s always wondered what he looks like in the heat of the moment. Hiroko’s features are adorably scrunched up, her mouth making a silent ‘O’, and it’s inevitably that sight that has Kitayama pounding up into her and groaning out his own release.

“Mm, next time you should come to my world,” she says breathlessly as she hops down, cringing a little. “I have all kinds of toys and devices we can play with.”

Kitayama stares at her and thinks that he has much more to learn about himself.

> ### 2.

“My mind is so fucked right now,” Nikaido says needlessly as a softer, curvier Senga crawls on top of him.

“That’s not the only thing that’s about to be fucked,” she says, and Nikaido supposes Kenko is just as forward as her male counterpart.

“Kenko, leave him alone,” Nikaido’s own female version tells her friend. “He doesn’t like girls.”

“How do you know—?” Nikaido starts to ask her, then watches his own eyebrows rise knowingly. “Ah, of course.”

“Mm, what shall we do, then?” the real Senga asks, playing with his fingers as he looks between the other three. He’s biting his lip, which is about as sheepish as he gets.

“I have an idea,” Kenko says, smiling bright as she rolls off of Nikaido and pushes Senga over to him. “Kiss.”

Nikaido’s eyes widen, but Senga just wraps his arms around his neck and presses their lips together. It’s distracting enough to make Nikaido forget about the girls, at least until he hears Takako whisper, “Are we that hot together?”

“We totally are,” Kenko replies, and Nikaido smirks a little as he pulls Senga down on top of him. Senga’s hips start moving immediately and Nikaido can’t help but push up, gasping into Senga’s mouth as they grind together.

“Don’t you want to play with them?” Nikaido asks him, his hands gripping Senga’s thighs in an obvious plea not to go very far. “I know you like girls too. It’s okay.”

“I want to,” Senga replies, and Nikaido feels a jolt of arousal course through him at the thought of him sandwiched between the other two. “Takako-chan doesn’t seem to have any interest in me, though.”

“I’m working on that,” Kenko says, and Nikaido looks over to see her coaxing Takako closer to them. “I told you, just think of him as a living dildo.”

Senga scoffs at that, but then Takako’s pulling him up by his hair and his eyes roll back into his head; Nikaido supposes she would know that he really likes that. “You’re going to fuck my girlfriend,” she says clearly, and Senga just nods.

Nikaido’s not sure which is hotter—watching Senga be manhandled by a girl who looks just like Nikaido himself, or the thought of Senga having sex with his own female clone. Either way, he nudges Senga off of him with only a little reluctance and kneels behind him as Takako lays Kenko out before them all.

“Ooh, this will work,” Kenko says, arching as Takako wastes no time mouthing her neck and slipping a hand up her skirt. “Takashi-kun— _ah_ —you should get Kento ready, too.”

“Ready for what?” Nikaido squawks, but Senga’s already reaching back to pull Nikaido flush against him from behind. “You want me to…while you…?”

“Yes,” both Sengas reply, and the male one turns his neck enough to nip at Nikaido’s throat. “We never do it this way.”

“Because you like to move too much,” Nikaido argues, but there’s no fight in his voice as he’s already unfastening Senga’s pants. “Someone give me a condom.”

Kenko reaches into her purse and presents Nikaido with a foil packet, which Nikaido tears into and rolls onto Senga’s erection, latching his mouth onto Senga’s neck when the latter arches in his arms. He lingers longer than necessary, feeling Senga’s hard length in his hand along with the deep groans that die in his throat as he busies himself with taking off the rest of Senga’s clothes.

The exact same noises in a higher register sound from in front of them, where Takako has Kenko completely undressed, mouth latched to her breast and two fingers moving inside her. Takako gives Nikaido an expectant look over her shoulder and Nikaido just nods, prying his hands away from Senga as Takako pulls him down on top of Kenko.

“Is it okay?” Senga asks Kenko gently, and she nods as she wraps her legs around his waist. Nikaido twitches as Senga enters her, a mixture of arousal and jealousy that has him retrieving his pocket lube before shucking his own pants.

Senga jerks at the first touch of Nikaido’s slick fingers between his legs, leaning down to kiss Kenko as he starts moving inside her. They gasp in sync, Senga’s speed increasing as Nikaido stretches him, his eyes on the pair of them and the gorgeous picture they make together. Takako seems to feel the same way, watching curiously from the side with her hand under her skirt. She catches Nikaido looking and offers a small smile, an alliance of sorts, which Nikaido returns before they turn back to their mutual interests rocking together on the floor.

Then Senga leans all the way back on his knees, hands on Kenko’s hips to pull her towards him with each thrust forward, rocking back and forth between her heat and Nikaido’s touch. Nikaido presses against him and kisses the back of his neck, which is already sweating from their efforts.

“How’s it feel?” Nikaido asks him.

“Amazing,” Senga replies, his voice choked, and once again he turns his head as far as he can to nose at Nikaido’s shoulder. Nikaido dips his own head to capture Senga’s lips and kiss him hard, possessively, three fingers moving in and out of him until Senga whines, “Do it, Nika,” into his mouth.

Quickly Nikaido replaces his fingers with his cock and slides in, hissing at the restriction that’s even tighter than usual with Senga inside Kenko. Nikaido wraps his arms around Senga’s waist and snaps his hips, pushing him deeper into Kenko while holding him back against his own chest and kissing over Senga’s shoulder.

“Ride my face, Taka-chan,” Nikaido hears Kenko say, opening his eyes long enough to see her reaching for Takako, and it’s Senga who breaks their kiss with a gasp. Nikaido has no desire to watch the two girls and focuses all of his attention on Senga, kissing all over his neck and shoulders while Senga’s body tenses around him even more at the sight of something he’s only seen in pornos.

Takako’s moans are loud and Nikaido should have known she’d be just as noisy as him, though a little shy when Kenko shoves her skirt up for the boys to see her tongue flicking rapidly on Takako’s clit. Senga lets go of one of Kenko’s legs to grasp Nikaido’s hand, his iron grip telling Nikaido that he’s close, and Nikaido doubles both his speed and force to pound Senga into Kenko.

The muffled screech from Kenko signals her orgasm, which Nikaido feels indirectly as Senga starts to lose it. Nikaido clutches onto him and Senga cries out, shuddering to a still between them and taking Nikaido with him. Through the haze of his own release, Nikaido hears Takako get even louder and opens his eyes in time to see her jerk violently against Kenko’s face.

Nikaido pulls Senga back against him while Takako does the same to Kenko, and Kenko laughs as she wipes her mouth. “You want to taste?” she asks Senga.

Senga nods, and Kenko leans forward to grab him by the chin and press their mouths together. There’s nothing soft and gentle about this kiss, tongues visibly coiling, and Senga pulls back with a contemplative expression.

“She tastes like you,” Senga tells Nikaido, “but sweeter.”

> ### 3.

“Are your girls as much of a pain as mine are?” Watako asks Yokoo, twirling her hair around her finger as she lounges on Yokoo’s couch. “Sometimes I feel like their damn mother.”

“I understand completely,” Yokoo replies, recognizing her nervous habits because he shares them. “Wanna make out?”

She turns towards him suddenly, eyeing him like she’s sizing him up, and Yokoo wonders what kind of sense that makes since they are basically the same person. “Okay,” she finally agrees.

“Excellent,” Yokoo says, nearly leaping across the room to sit next to her on the couch, where he slides his arm around her and gently lowers her to the cushions. “You don’t have to go easy on me.”

Watako fists his hair as her legs fall open to accept him between them. “I know.”

Their mouths crash together and suddenly Yokoo gets why all of the girls he’s kissed before tell him that he comes on too strong. Watako kisses him so hard and fast that his mind is about to spin out of his head, his motor controls thwarted as all he can do is hold onto her like he’d fall off otherwise.

“The fuck are you waiting for, a written invitation?” she hisses against his lips. “ _Touch me_.”

Her tone has his nerves coming alive, his hands rushing to push up her shirt and under her bra. Watako doesn’t have much to grab onto, but her nipples are sensitive just like Yokoo’s and she lets out an unfeminine growl when he pinches them. In response, she reaches down and gropes him right through his pants, squeezing him hard enough to pull a similar noise from his throat as he pushes into her hand.

“Have you ever thought about it?” Watako asks, and Yokoo struggles to focus through the haze of his mind to figure out what the fuck she’s talking about. “Using our teeth on you.”

Yokoo’s eyes widen as he catches on. “I haven’t…but now I am.”

She kisses up his neck and bites him hard, on the hairline where nobody will see, and Yokoo jerks at her elongated canines piercing his skin. “You like that, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Yokoo replies, thrusting against her like they’re actually having sex, and Watako moans right in his ear. “I guess that means you like it, too?”

“Fuck yes,” she answers, and Yokoo leans down to sink his teeth into her neck. She thrashes beneath him, legs clamping around his waist as she pushes up against him, and Yokoo’s never had a girl so desperate to hump him in his entire life. He tries not to think about what that says for _him_ as he slides both hands up her skirt, pulling her panties down and following with his own body to settle his head between her legs.

He bites her inner thigh and she cries out again, grabbing him firmly by his hair and placing him exactly where she wants him. His tongue flicks out on instinct, finding the small bump that twitches as he loops his arms around her thighs and holds her open for him. Suddenly she jerks and he can’t move fast enough, scraping her clit with his teeth and then she’s convulsing in his face, gasping out her air while Yokoo just lays there, transfixed.

“Wow,” they both say, and Watako has a devious glint in her eye as she stares at him contemplatively. Yokoo has a pretty good idea what she’s thinking about, because it’s probably the same thing _he’s_ thinking about, which is why he lets her push him down onto the other end of the couch and open his pants.

Her mouth is on him with no pretense, sucking his cock past her lips while Yokoo leans up on his elbows to watch. He starts to tense up the second he feels her teeth, but it’s not unpleasant at all and he actually ends up snapping his hips up by forces beyond his control. Watako doesn’t look bothered by it, just keeps running her canines up and down his shaft and rendering Yokoo completely useless at anything but groaning.

“Stop or I’ll—” Yokoo hisses out, but it’s too late as Watako nibbles on his tip and wild horses couldn’t hold back his orgasm. “Shit, sorry.”

Watako makes a dismissive noise and rests her chin on his stomach. “You know who else likes the teeth? Tai-chan.”

“Really,” Yokoo says, fairly certain that they’re both sharing an identical smirk.

> ### 4.

Tamamori and Yuuko stare at each other curiously, poking each other’s cheeks while Miyata and Toshiko conspire in the corner.

“Still chasing after him, huh?” Toshiko whispers knowingly, giving Miyata a comforting pat on the shoulder, and Miyata turns to give her an incredulous look. “Girls are faster than boys at this kind of thing, you know. I confessed to Yuuko _years_ ago.”

“And?” Miyata prompts, his heart pounding.

“And what?” Toshiko replies, grinning, and Miyata knows she’s just being a brat because he does the same thing.

“Are you two together in your world?” Miyata asks, keeping his voice down.

“Sort of,” she answers. “We sleep with other people, but usually we’re both involved. Like now.”

Miyata’s eyebrows rise into his hairline. “Like now?”

“Toshiya-kun,” she says gently, “unrequited love _hurts_. Trust me, I know. I don’t know how you’ve made it this far—I would have given up long before now.”

“Boys are more stubborn than girls,” Miyata says.

Toshiko stifles a laugh. “I certainly can’t argue with that. Just roll with it, okay? If Yuuta-kun is anything like my Yuuko, you have to ease him into it. Baby steps.”

“Baby steps,” Miyata repeats.

“Just wait here,” Toshiko tells him, then scrambles to her feet to approach the other pair, who are now imitating each other’s actions. Toshiko whispers something into Yuuko’s ear, and Yuuko gives Tamamori an apologetic bow of her head before trotting over to Miyata, tripping on the way and landing right on her face.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Miyata rushes to help her up, and the way she blinks up at him has him faltering in his stance. “Wow, you really do look like him.”

“I _am_ him,” Yuuko replies exasperatedly as she grabs onto Miyata’s arm and nearly pulls it out of its socket as she stands up. “Just with girl parts.”

Miyata’s eyes drop down to Yuuko’s tight sweater and he gulps. “Yes, I gathered that much.”

She catches him staring and starts to glare, but then she loses her balance again and Miyata thinks it’s much safer for both of them on the floor. Yuuko lands on his lap, straddling his thighs in an incredibly incriminating position, and Miyata’s breath hitches as his body reacts to everything Tamamori (minus the obvious difference).

“I’m sorry—” he starts, but she shushes him and points to the side. Miyata follows her gaze and sees Toshiko grinning up at Tamamori, who looks dazed and a little confused as Toshiko guides his head down for a kiss. Miyata expects jealousy to rage through his veins, but what he feels is something akin to heartache because it looks like he’s the one kissing Tamamori.

“I don’t share my woman with just anyone, you know,” Yuuko hisses at him. “We’re doing this for you, both of you.”

“Why?” Miyata asks.

Yuuko shrugs. “Miyatama should exist in every universe.”

Then she grabs his face, pressing their lips together and Miyata’s absolutely positive that this is what Tamamori’s lips would feel like (give or take the lip gloss). He acts on impulse and pulls Yuuko close to him, stretching out on his back while Yuuko settles on his lap more pointedly and grinds down against him.

“You can pretend I’m him if you want,” Yuuko whispers into his mouth. “Really, the only difference is that I self-lubricate.”

“How convenient,” Miyata breathes, and Yuuko laughs the same ridiculous way Tamamori does, which has him initiating their second kiss. He feels a little guilty that he’s doing this with Yuuko instead of Tamamori, but either way it’s the same hot skin under his fingers and impatient whining reaching his ears.

“Come on, hurry up,” Yuuko mumbles, curling her tongue around his as her hands drop to the fastenings of his pants. “Would you make him wait like this?”

“No,” Miyata gets out, his hand shaking as he slides it up her thigh, though the way she’s gasping into his lips helps move it along. He reaches the hem of her panties and she grabs onto his cock, squeezing him to full hardness and if he wasn’t planning on doing this before, he certainly is now.

“Look at them,” Yuuko says, though she doesn’t give Miyata much of a choice as she turns his neck for him, forcing him to look at Tamamori and Toshiko kissing heatedly, both of Tamamori’s hands tangled in her hair. “Can’t you see he’s so into you? He just needs to become comfortable with being with a guy.”

“How is a _girl_ going to do that?” Miyata asks, his voice a little strained as he pushes his fingers inside her. She hadn’t been kidding about the self-lubrication, her body already warm and wet and responsive to Miyata’s touches.

“She’ll get there,” Yuuko assures him as she puts a condom on him, “just don’t come.”

“ _Don’t_ —?” Miyata starts to repeat, but she’s already sinking onto him, leaning her head back as she takes him all the way in and gives herself a second to adjust. “ _Fuck_ , Tama.”

Yuuko’s eyebrows rise at the nickname, and she glances over to where Tamamori clearly twitches as he lowers Toshiko to the floor. “Keep calling me that, I think it’s helping.”

That is the easiest thing Miyata has ever been told to do in his life. “Tama, god, you feel so good.”

“Yeah?” Yuuko replies, giving a small swivel of her hips that has Miyata whimpering. “You want more?”

“Yes, please,” Miyata tells her, using so much pressure to run his fingers down Yuuko’s thighs that he leaves faint pink marks in his wake. “But slowly, since you don’t want me to finish.”

“You sound sad about it,” Yuuko comments as she starts to ride, and Miyata can’t stop himself from making her bounce with his own thrusts. She comes instantly, and Miyata’s a little proud until she speaks again. “Wouldn’t you rather finish with him?”

Miyata gasps out his next breath from both the sex and the implication of having it with Tamamori. “Is that even an option?”

“Watch them,” is all Yuuko says, and Miyata looks over to find Tamamori rolling his hips on top of Toshiko, her legs hooked around his elbows and his pants around his knees. It’s probably the hottest thing Miyata’s ever seen in his life, if just for Tamamori’s face, flushed and panting as he fucks her into the floor.

Then Toshiko looks over, wearing an unflattering expression that Miyata really hopes he doesn’t have right now, and winks at them as she sneaks her hand between Tamamori’s legs. Tamamori jerks and pulls back enough to give her an incredulous look, but she just smiles and whispers something soothing before luring him back into her mouth and swallowing his noises as he squirms and trembles at the way she’s touching him.

“She’s such a persistent bitch, isn’t she?” Yuuko asks fondly, falling forward to mouth at Miyata’s neck as she moans out another orgasm. “It’s one of the reasons I love her, though, so you should be like that with Yuuta-kun, too.”

“Clearly,” Miyata says, unable to tear his eyes away from Tamamori’s uncontrollable movements. He thinks about Tamamori doing that on top of him and has to halt Yuuko by her waist to keep from coming. “Yuuko-chan, I can’t—”

“It’s time to switch anyway,” she tells him, going much slower as she kisses her way up his throat to his lips. “You’re welcome.”

Before Miyata can ask what the hell she’s talking about, she hops completely off of him and stumbles over to where Toshiko is sliding out from underneath Tamamori, leaving him looking lost, frustrated, and so, so hot. He emits a sharp whine that goes straight to Miyata’s cock, which is so desperate for release that he’s ready to just pull himself off right here in front of everyone, propriety be damned, but then the two girls are flinging Tamamori toward him and he lands on his face much like his female replica had done.

“Tama-chan!” Miyata exclaims, reaching over to tug on one of Tamamori’s hands. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay,” Tamamori snaps, his voice almost a growl, and Miyata’s more turned on than he’s ever been before. “She looks like you, she feels like you, and she kept talking about you, so now all I can think about is _you_.”

Miyata’s rapid heartbeat is no longer purely from his arousal. “Is that a bad thing?”

Tamamori looks up at him through his bangs, his dark eyes radiating with lust, and all he does is pull blatantly on Miyata’s hand, which speaks more than any words. Miyata scoots towards him and it’s Tamamori who grabs his face, pressing their mouths together and Miyata doesn’t know how to think anymore.

He feels Tamamori’s weight on top of him and groans into their kiss as their erections bump, both still wearing the condoms and very, very hard. Miyata can barely breathe with Tamamori’s tongue in his mouth, his hands now sliding up thighs that have hair on them and he likes it much better this way.

“She—” Tamamori gasps, and Miyata drops his mouth to Tamamori’s throat to let him talk. “She touched me, you know, _inside_ , and kept saying how good it would feel if it was you, and, fuck, is your mouth as dirty as hers?”

“Do you want it to be?” Miyata asks, his hands relocating to Tamamori’s ass. “I’m right here if you want it, Tama-chan. I’d love to feel you around me—I bet you’re tighter than any girl.”

“Ugh, fine,” Tamamori says, looking annoyed until he hovers over Miyata’s lap, slowly taking Miyata’s cock inside him. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

“Slow down,” Miyata tells him, rubbing his hips as he watches Tamamori’s face cringe. “Relax or this isn’t going to happen.”

“Okay,” Tamamori replies, taking a few deep breaths to calm down, and Miyata feels the tension around his length loosen a little. “Oh my god, Miyacchi.”

“Yeah,” Miyata agrees, using all of his power not to push up into that tight heat. “There you go.”

Tamamori just moans as their thighs touch, rocking a little on top of him, and Miyata bites his lip to keep from losing it. “It feels better when I move.”

“Move, please move,” Miyata gasps, and Tamamori’s eyes pop open to look down at him. He appears to be watching Miyata’s face as he gives a tentative bounce, hard enough to have Miyata’s eyes rolling back into his head, and Miyata can’t stop the groans spilling from his lips as Tamamori does it again, and again, going a little faster with each one.

He leans back and suddenly everything is so much tighter, a shrill moan tearing from Tamamori’s lungs as he looks just as surprised as Miyata is. Miyata grabs Tamamori by his hips to hold him in place as he sharply thrusts up in the same place, repeating the action as Tamamori cries out again. Tossing his head back, Tamamori rides Miyata hard, and Miyata struggles to wrap his hand around Tamamori’s cock, pumping him as fast as he can because Miyata’s beyond ready to finish.

Tamamori moans Miyata’s first name as he comes, which is what sends Miyata over the edge and it’s a long while before Miyata has any recognition of anything on this realm of reality. When he’s coherent again, Tamamori’s stretched out on top of him, curled up in his arms and Miyata considers the possibility that he’s dreaming.

Then he hears a female voice sigh happily. “Now the world is as it should be.”

“Girls are fucking _crazy_ ,” Tamamori whispers into Miyata’s neck, and Miyata nods his agreement.

> ### 5.

“You are so beautiful,” Fujigaya breathes.

Tai-chan hides a smile. “Isn’t that a little vain?”

“Yeah, but…” Fujigaya trails off, feeling a little sheepish. “I feel like I’m looking at me in a whole new way. Like, appreciating myself, or something.”

“I know what you mean,” Tai-chan tells him, biting on her lip, and Fujigaya wonders if it’s that cute when he does it. “I just really like looking at you.”

“Me too,” Fujigaya says, laughing, and she joins in. She reaches up to scratch her neck and his eyes hone in on her fingers, watching them trail along her dark skin, and she pauses when she catches him.

She looks sheepish as she casts her eyes down, and Fujigaya is pretty sure they’re both thinking the same thing. If Tai-chan is anything like him, though, she’ll never say it first, as much as he really, really wants her to.

Then her fingers sweep across her collarbone, pulling a visible shiver that has Fujigaya choking on his air, and he no longer thinks that talking is necessary. She won’t meet his eyes, but her hand keeps moving around her neck and along her jawline, trickling down her throat and tracing the collar of her shirt, and this is the most seduced Fujigaya has ever felt without actually being touched.

Her eyes dart up and lock with his, challenging, and he understands the terms well. Casting away his inhibitions, he can’t stop the gasps and moans as he runs his fingers along his own skin, repeating her path and adding in his ears because he really fucking likes that. He shivers twice before the rest of his body aches to be touched, and the next second has him pulling his shirt over his head.

Without missing a beat, Tai-chan copies him, going as far as to unhook her bra and slide the straps down her arms to leave her completely topless. It’s not the sight of her breasts that has Fujigaya’s chest heaving, but it’s the way she traces them with her fingers, circling each one before teasing her way up. She moans out loud when she makes contact with her nipples, pinching them lightly as she leans her head back and rocks it from side to side, displaying her throat quite nicely.

When her head rocks forward and hooded eyes regard Fujigaya expectantly, his hands drift along his own chest like they’re being controlled by someone else. He chases the tingles on his skin and squirms when his fingers dip into his ribs, a soft noise escaping when he snags his nipples with his nails. They’re so sensitive that he usually doesn’t touch them, nor does he let anyone else, but now he takes them both in his fingers and feels it throb right in his pants.

“Taisuke,” Tai-chan gasps, and he’s pulled back to reality where the female version of himself is sitting right in front of him, panting and flushed all the way down to her breasts. “I can’t wait anymore.”

“Okay,” he replies as he reaches for his belt, only hesitating until he sees her start to pull up her skirt. “Okay.”

She looks just as shy as he feels, and he gathers all of his courage to go first because he’s the man and it’s much less embarrassing for him to pull out his cock than it is for her to put herself on display for him. The first touch to his incredibly hard flesh makes it much easier, his other hand rushing to push down his pants enough to be comfortable as he strokes himself as slow as he can manage.

He squeezes hard when she slides off her panties and pulls her knees up, spreading her thighs enough for him to see everything and biting her lip again as she brings both of her hands down between her legs. Girls are a two-hand job, Fujigaya remembers as he struggles to keep his eyes open and on her. She’s pushing two fingers inside herself, her body rocking against them as she becomes more aggressive and hits right where she wants it, the middle finger of her other hand swirling circles around her clit that swells with each passing second.

Her next moan is strained and he glances up to her face, watching her watch him as her features start to slack in the undeniable prelude to orgasm. Not wanting to be left behind, Fujigaya speeds up, grabbing onto the couch cushion with his free hand because he feels like he’s about to jerk himself right off of it, his body arching as he gets close.

“Now!” Tai-chan exclaims, and Fujigaya gapes at her as she comes. Her clit twitches and her muscles visibly contract as she throws her head back with a breathy moan, which Fujigaya repeats about two octaves lower when he spills over his fist.

It should be awkward, but Fujigaya’s the most concerned about breathing properly before addressing any kind of shame, while Tai-chan seems unbothered by everything as she flops back and makes no effort to reach for her shirt.

“Don’t you dare tell Kitayama we did that,” Fujigaya mutters as he finds his voice. “Either of them.”

> ### bonus

Watako counts the heads of long hair as they return to the porthole to their world, smacking Hiroko and Tai-chan as they fight over the key. “Ladies, _please_. You’re acting like your male alter egos.”

Hiroko rolls her eyes and lets Tai-chan have the key, but instead of being smug about it, Tai-chan turns red for reasons unbeknownst to anyone.

“Well, that was a big waste of time,” Takako announces, folding her arms in dissatisfaction.

Kenko pokes her. “Speak for yourself.”

“I don’t know how they function on their own,” Yuuko scoffs, shrugging off Toshiko as the older girl tries to hug her from behind. “They must never get laid.”

“It’s a good thing we planted the key in India for Mitsu to find,” Hiroko adds.

“You know what they say,” Watako says haughtily, flipping her hair over her shoulder, “behind every man is a great woman.”


End file.
